La Vie En Rose
by Just Jax
Summary: A chance meeting in a late night club, a reflecting mind, a window to the past and a glance into the present...life is just a dream after all...(one shot)


** La Vie En Rose**

The air was bitter, the chilly winter breeze gusted down the empty roads. Though, other then the wind's occasional cries in the night, all was silent. It was late, and most of the city's life had retired for the evening, leaving only the street lamps to illuminate the darkness with their watchful eyes.

On the lonely corner of one street however, the lights of a small building burned brightly against the ebony backdrop, as if in defiance to the night mistress' time regiment. The faint melody of a blues rhythm leaked from behind the closed doors and, if you were into that sort of thing, it beckoned you with its pleasant, upbeat tune. The sign hanging above, hand painted with a classy font in vibrant red letters, read: **The Glass Rose**.

She stood there, just beyond the boarder of the lilting atmosphere behind the wooden doors, inhaling into her lungs, last remnants of the warm, jagged air from her dwindling cigarette. Though, she knew it was just an excuse to wait in the cold, bitter, air a few minutes more. Perhaps, this was how she was going to punish herself tonight.

"Then again," she surmised, grinding the butt of her cigarette into the ground with a velvet heel, "Maybe, not."

The doors opened smoothly and a blast of warm, spicy air exploded in front of her, immediately enveloping her in its arms when she entered into the club. The light breeze blew stray strands of her blonde hair to the side of her slender face as she strode across the wooden floor and to an empty silver stool sitting at the corner of the bar. Slowly, she sat on its red cushion, unwinding the fur shawl from around her neck and tucking the long velvet train of her scarlet dress around her ankles modestly. The bar tender didn't waste anytime seeing

her there and smiled as a flash of fond recognition settled in his eyes.

"Ah, Miss Julia. How are you tonight?"

"I've been better Gaston." she admitted, chuckling bitterly; then, left at that.

Gaston, the bartender, was kind man in his mid fifties. Ever since she could remember, he had taken a keen and sincere interest in her and her problems. Its what she liked about him; that and he didn't pry if she wasn't up to talking. He'd just smile and offer her a drink, sometimes, depending on how quiet or down she was, he would buy the drink himself, on the house. She frowned solemnly, she would not be surprised if this was one of those nights.

Gaston nodded with a respectful smile.

"Very well Miss Julia. What may I get you to drink tonight and don't worry about paying, the drink's on me."

Julia sighing, smiling sadly.

"Gaston, you can't keep buying me drinks." she said, only half teasing.

The man chuckled in the way that she was very familiar with. They went through this every time she hit a low spot. He'd inform her that he was going to buy her drink and she'd tell him he shouldn't then, he'd simply chuckle and buy it for her anyway. She had stopped arguing and protesting long ago.

"How about a scotch on the rocks?"

Gaston nodded fixing her drink with quick skill. As he placed it in front of her, the bell rang above the door and another costumer strode in. Smiling at Julia apologetically, he excused himself to help his new charge.

Different shades of brown swirled together in a unified dance within her glass as she stirred the liquid aimlessly. For the first time that night, Julia gazed around the dimly lit room, watching the movement throughout it. The tune had long since changed and now the slow, brassy, lament of a Barry Sax took the place of the upbeat blues rift. In the center of the floor, a few couples swayed to the serenade, gazing at eachother with a fond glow found a lover's

eyes. As she watched on, she could hear soft reminiscing voices, lost in a different time, speaking amongst eachother. The smell of cherry wood tobacco filed her nose from the smoke of a near by pipe. Her father use to smoke one very similar to it when she was a child and the fragrance conjured up a pleasant euphoria.

Her eyes drifted to the window, gazing past the glass and into the world that now existed before her. Her red lips curled into a frown as she thought to herself sadly the saying she always thought to remind herself where the edge of reality lay. 'Memories are nice, but that's all they are.' Unfortunately, often, memories were what she felt was all that was left of who she was; the only thing really, that kept her alive. Some distant memory in a place of long ago. Like a 'Once Upon A Time' story or maybe...just a dream.

It had started to snow and it drifted to the earth below in soft feathery flakes. She swirled her scotch in its glass, listening to the faint tinkling of the ice bouncing off each other. When she was a child, the world had been as simple as clinking ice, the gentle snow fall and fresh smell of cherry wood tobacco from her father's wooden pipe. Things never stay the same though, they always change. But it wasn't the change that had hurt. It was the fact that she had brought it all upon herself and in the end, she could only rest the blame on herself. Sighing heavily at her own weakness, she grabbed a cigarette out of its silver case, lighting the end with a black lighter engraved with a red rose.

She faintly heard the bell tinkle in the doorway and felt a cool draft nipping at her ankles as a new body entered into the lively room. Julia sipped her drink, wincing at the diluted taste that gave her the dead give away she had been immersed in her thoughts far too long. She sighed and gazed upwards, catching Gaston's eye. He responded immediately.

"Another scotch Miss Julia?"

She smiled nodding to the bar keep. As he set her drink on the counter, and smiled warmly up at him.

"Thank You."

It was near Christmas again. How she had loved Christmas when she was younger. It was always a joyous yet sad time for her and her father. For years, it had been just the two of them. Ever since her mother had died one snowy Christmas Eve. Each year after, they would visit her grave, bringing her Season Greetings and a gift of, usually, something that Julia had made. Julia laughed bitterly, tears welling in her crystal blue eyes out of nowhere. She was glad she wasn't alive to see her now. Her mother would wrench in her grave if she knew what her

only child had become.

"Excuse me." A firm, nonchalant, voice called from beside her, cutting her thoughts off abruptly; so abruptly, she couldn't help but give a startled jump.

"Oh, sorry." The voice came again, a light chuckle emerging from his brassy

throat.

Julia's eyes slowly drifted towards the man now sitting beside her. His claret eyes sparkled down at her apologetically.

"I didn't mean to startle you."

She just smiled, shaking her head.

"Its fine."

She gazed at him curiously, the man seemed familiar somehow, like she had seen him somewhere but didn't remember. Before she could place the face, he flashed her a charming smile and pointed to his cigarette almost sheepishly..._almost_.

"Uh...you think I could have a light? I seemed to have misplaced my matches somewhere."

He felt around the pockets of his white tuxedo, searching diligently. His face was strained in scrutiny and his eyes looked distant, concentrated, as he continued his, almost frantic, search; turning pockets inside out, the outer pockets, the inner pockets, the pants pockets...in his shoes... Julia couldn't help but laugh and slid her own lighter across the marble counter top.

"Here."

"Thanks."

As the flame singed the tip of the cigarette, causing smoke to spiral from its end, his crimson eyes curiously passed across the back of the lighter to an old French inscription in red letters. An ironic smile twisted across his lips as he read it aloud.

"La Vie En Rose. Life through rose colored glasses."

He cocked his head towards Julia an amused yet, somehow serious gleam in his eyes.

"Do you believe in seeing life through rose colored glasses?"

A bitter smile dusted her lips sadly and she shook her head as she stared into her glass.

"I use to, once, a long time ago. That was my father's lighter. His spirit is the only one that believes in it now."

She cursed herself silently as her uninvited tears, once again begin to pool in her eyes; and she couldn't stop them from coming. It was good for her that she was excellent at hiding it.

"How about you?" She asked, getting the subject off herself. "Do you believe in La Vie En Rose?"

"There's no such thing that I've found." He said matter a factly, downing a shot of what looked like it might have been Jack Daniel's.

"It's like I'm watching a dream...a very long, very sad dream." she whispered, not exactly knowing why she so open with the stranger.

The snowing had increased and from the other side of the glass window. Above the newest big band swing the musicians were now playing, she could her the spirited voices of the carolers from the street. They were singing the same song that her mother, father and herself had sung every year before her mother had passed away. Her mother would play Silent Night on their family piano and they would sing as loud as they could with all the strength they could muster. After she had died, Julia would play it, again and again, every year in remembrance of her mother and she and her father would sing the best they could through their tears. Even though it had been so sad, it was still a good memory, and also a cold sharp reminder of who she once was. Reality seemed to now laugh in her face at her own bitter out come that she had cooked up for herself for basically, as she realized now, no reason in particular. She laughed harshly at herself, spatting her next statement venomously into the air.

"My life was La Vie En Rose when I was alive. That was before I sold my soul to the devil of course."

"Which one?" he asked with a smirk, taking a long drag on his cigarette.

She laughed lightly, gulping down half of the scotch; perhaps it would numb the pain so she wouldn't notice it anymore and she'd stop spilling her guts out of nowhere to strange men who ask for a light.

"Why does it have to be only one?" she retorted, flashing her own devious smirk.

"Ah I see."

He took another shot, gazing at her deeply.

"They say that when angels fall from the heavens they become demons."

She frowned solemnly, swallowing the rest of her drink.

"Well then, maybe that's what I've become."

He gazed at her curiously, cocking his head to one side.

"What do you do for a living?"

Julia glanced at him with an awkward smile.

"Odd and End jobs. And you?"

He grinned, taking the last puff of his cigarette before grinding into a

near by ash tray.

"Odd and End jobs."

The warm air swirled lightly in front of them as they shared an understanding smile. Jazz goers moved to the music in the middle of the dance floor, sweeping with their partners as the melody floated through the atmosphere. She knew now, he was the devil's advocate, just like her.

Serenades flowed and faded, the bell chimed several more times as people came

and went from this surreal place of hazy euphoria to once again reintegrated with the cold, mechanistic technocracy waiting for them beyond the doors of The Glass Rose. The chatting grew to waves of pleasant, melodious laughterechoing throughout the small establishment. Aqua and Claret orbs danced to a silent tune as they just gazed on, communicating softly with eachother. From somewhere, a song was whispered into the maestro's ear for the next number after this tune was finished...It was 1:30am.

Julia laughed heartily as she finished off her sixth scotch. This one had been bought by her companion beside her. They hadn't been talking about anything in particular, just things.

"What are you doing for Christmas this year?" She asked him, thoroughly intrigued. He didn't seem like the Christmassy type however, looks can be very deceiving.

He shrugged, shooting his eighth JD.

"Never really celebrated Christmas. Never had a reason to."

There was a hint of sadness in his voice that she caught. Her heart skipped a beat but she didn't pursue the conversation any further. Instead, she noticed something else about him. She could see why she hadn't caught it earlier, it was rather subtle.

"Your eyes," she began, causing him to gaze up at her from where he had been staring at the bar top. "They're two different colors."

He chuckled softly nodding, as if surprised she even noticed.

"About two years ago, I was in a bad accident and I lost my left eye. It had to be replaced by a mechanical prosthetic."

"I see. Why the two colors?"

He scooted a little closer, pointing towards his left eye.

"My left eye sees the past."

"And, what about your right eye?"

"It sees the present."

"Strange phenomenon." she quipped, taking a drag on a cigarette that was mostly ash.

"You could say that. That's the way it's always been though, ever since. I haven't really questioned it and it doesn't really bother me."

"How about you? Anything peculiar or odd?" he suddenly drew back mockingly, eyes wide. "Your not a man are you?"

Julia gazed at him oddly before bursting into a deep laughter. It was the first time in a long while that she had laughed this hard. It was also the first time in several years it was actually sincere. She laughed until she was practically blue in the face. He just gazed at her with an amused lopsided grin, reaching over to prevent her from tipping off the stool as she was

precariously rocking back and forth.

She finally shook her head as she calmed a bit.

"No. I don't believe I am."

Suddenly both paused as a soft haunting melody hummed in their ears making the irony of the evening all the more rich. Their world seemed to be spinning a never ending web of dreams, illusions and stark fantasies. Perhaps, that was all La Vie En Rose was suppose to be anyway. Some fanciful Utopia that you could almost touch but could never quite reach.

"Care to dance to the dream?" he asked, extending a hand towards her.

They just gazed at eachother for a long moment, each lost in their own thoughts for, that was pretty much all they had to live for anymore. They nothing to gain nothing to lose. With out a word, Julia accepted the offer, placing her hand in his rough and courser palm.

The music flowed gently, beautifully yet, to them, it flowed almost sadly. He moved in steady fluidic motions, like the heart of a stream, strong, yet with grace. Though, to her, it seemed more the rhythm in which he lived his life. Hiding everything he believed in if there even was anything to believe in, in this world anymore.

_Hold me close and hold me fast_

_this magic spell you cast,_

_This La Vie En Rose..._

Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, rippling with the wind they created. He spun her out, before spinning her close to his chest. She could smell the faint odor of Jack Daniel's on his breath along with the light spiciness of a fragrance hidden carefully somewhere on his jacket. It was mixed with the smallest hint of cigarette smoke. The smell was comforting and

familiar. When she was a child, she would run up to her father and hug him every morning, just to smell his personal fragrance, burning it permanently on her brain. Back then, her reasoning was that if she ever got amnesia or lost her way, she would be able to recognize his scent and remember or find him in a crowd. Her father would look down at her and chuckle in a fond amusement and say:

"Jules, you are like your mother, you're too stubborn to get amnesia."

Those had times had long since passed though...long, long ago. Julia gazed emptily down at the wooden tiles lining the floor. She suddenly felt herself being drawn closer to his body again, but it didn't feel like part of the dance and she looked up at him to find his eyes gazing at her in soft wonderment, a warm smile dusting his lips.

_When you kiss me heaven sings,_

_and though I close my eyes, I see_

_La Vie En Rose..._

Julia couldn't take her eyes off his...they seemed to know her with out knowing. They're gazed at her with a warm claret glow that seemed to surround her. Vicious had never once looked at her like that. It was just a mutual get-our-mind-off-of-work-for-a-few-hours arrangement that they shared. Not that Julia had minded that, she had been the one to initiate it. Yet there was something different about this odd man in front of her. Something she couldn't quite place...yet.

_ When you press me to you heart,_

_I'm in a world apart,_

_A world where roses bloom..._

He had grabbed her hands and her twirled her so that her back was now pressed against his chest. She sighed heavily, resting her head against the bottom of his chin. This feeling that was overwhelming her now made her heart sink. Nothing good could come of this. There was no place for it in this cut throat business both of them were in. And for the millionth time in her life of what ifs, couldas, shouldas and would'ves, she wished you could have done it all over again. Tears jerked her eyes hard and she couldn't fight them and for the third time that night, they just flowed.

_And when you speak, angels sing from above_

_Everyday words turn into love songs..._

Ya she remembered alright. It had been two Christmas' ago. Ironic how these things happened on what was once, supposedly, the most sacred of holidays. She had gotten the call and she had gone. Her father had been fighting a cancer that they couldn't treat for five years now. He fought both bravely and valiantly but, like everything else in this cruel world, it hadn't been enough and now, as she entered into his bedroom, he was lying on his death bed looking

at her with his worn and tired blue eyes. Even as she sat on the edge of his bed, he said nothing accept gazed at her sadly, as if searching for something with in her own eyes.

"Why?" he finally spoke, cutting through the tense air. It was the manner in which he spoke with her that made her heart wrench with in her body. He looked broken, feeble and it wasn't because of the sickness.

"Why?" she repeated in absolute befuddlement; of all the questions.

He slowly stretched a shaky hand towards the night stand, pointing to a wrinkled piece of paper lying haphazardly on its surface.

"Why?" he asked again, his voice softly cracking.

Her eyes widened as she gazed at newspaper clipping with the headline:

**RED DRAGONS RAMPAGE THROUGH LITTLE PARIS CASINO**

** 13 DEAD FIVE MORE INJURED**

Below the headline was a picture of vicious standing sinisterly in one corner and who just happened to be sitting beside him in a full leather jump suit...her

of course. Julia gasped gazing at the dying man in front of her.

"Papa." she said, barely above a whisper, tears creeping to the corner of her

eyes.

The old man stared at her, the hurt clear in his eyes.

"Tell me that's not you. Please, Julia, tell me she just looks like you." he begged.

A tear fell down her cheek as she closed her eyes shaking her head,

"I can't."

Silence loomed over the little room for several minutes more before Julia spoke up once more.

"Papa..."

"No." he whispered softly, his own eyes brimming with tears. "You can not be my daughter."

"Papa please!" she cried in agony, her heart beginning to rip asunder inside her chest.

"No, My daughter wouldn't have done this. You can not be my sweet Julia. And if you are Julia, then, my daughter is dead."

"Papa, no." she cried again, leaning forwards to touch his face but he wrenched away, making her tears fall harder.

"I don't know you. Please leave."

Without a word, she nodded grabbing her coat. Two hours later, she had received another call to inform her of her father's death and his last word..._Julia_. She had died in that moment, probably, forever.

_Give your heart and soul to me_

_and life will always be,_

_La Vie En Rose._

She gazed up at this curious man who somehow sparked some sort of life back into her eyes. This man who didn't even try but, knew. She wondered if they would ever meet again. To her, he was the embodiment of hope, hope that somehow, she could still live, still dream and it all be La Vie En Rose, the perfect Utopia.

He pulled her in, draping her over his arm as the song ended. He grinned looking down at her with amused eyes.

"By the way, the name's Spike."

She returned the genuine smile.

"Julia.

Cest' La Vie…

Cest' La Vie...


End file.
